Page 75 of The Dark Prince
Yes. I growled, hoping it would make him back off.
He smirked, pointing his sword at me.
We both knew I couldn’t kill myself to end the curse, despite my best efforts.
But he could kill me.
He’d refused before and it made sense, seeing as I was his only male heir. Now? What did I have left to lose?
“The cost is growing too high. Something must end. Everyone is growing suspicious at court,” he said.
There’d been a time when I would have gladly let him slit my throat to end it all, but that was then.
Things had changed.
Now I have Isadora. Now I had a small slip of a girl who fought for me with the viciousness of the northern goddess of war. Now I had hope.
I backed up, baring my teeth.
“The witch will return and kill your wife. She always wins, Tyr. Help me make her lose.”
He advanced on me with the sword, and the injustice of it all caused me to lose the fragile hold I had on my sanity. I lunged at him and he parried, blocking my way with steel.
“I will at least give you the dignity of a quick death. Though it will be best if I announce you perished fighting the beast. They will remember you as a hero. I’ll take good care of your little wife.”
My roar of defiance wasn’t the beast refusing to die—it was merefusing to leave Isadora alone as a widow under my father’s protection. I knew what he did to young, grieving women.
I knew from personal experience.
With a gesture of his sword, his guards surrounded me, swords pointing in and they leaped at me, charging in from the underbrush.
I was an idiot to think he’d ever face me alone.
I had nowhere to go.
I would die here, and Isadora would be alone.
The beast in me howled in despair. I ran.
Thirty Four
ISADORA
Aella’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly. She didn’t have time to argue with me as a massive beast flew over our heads and landed a foot away, snarling at us. I held the knife just as Tyr had told me, and waited. It wasn’t Tyr. It was someone else.
Aella went still, one hand grasping onto my shoulder like a lifeline.
The beast leaped at the king.
I lunged forward.
The knife flashed, and I rolled under the beast and thrust upwards as hard as I could, right above the front left leg joint. The blade went in as easily as butter, but the beast’s weight on me bent back my wrist so hard I thought it might break. Tyr hadn’t been kidding.
I let go of the knife.
The beast roared, then fell. It went still in seconds.
I jerked my dagger out and wiped it on the hem of my dress.
